


Orange

by flareprincess



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flareprincess/pseuds/flareprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lysandre and Sycamore go on a date and have some revelations about one another and the world they live in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was to be a 3-shot, but I loved writing these two so much that I couldn't stop. So, here is chapter 1, short and sweet.

 It felt strange, wearing the silken orange button down under his lab coat. Professor Sycamore’s forty-five minute deliberation between the new color and his usual, uniform blue made him late for work, and insecure on his commute. Thankfully he could cover it up under his winter coat as he walked down the Lumiose sidewalks.  
Why did he do this to himself? As he reviewed the internal argument that he had with himself that morning, he still couldn’t find an answer more logical than a feeling. When he woke up that morning, he felt different. Augustine didn’t know what he felt, but it was something—it was enough to get him to wear the opposite of blue.  
The professor walked briskly through the bottom floor of the lab, greeting his assistants and safely situating himself behind his desk in a matter of minutes. His papers were strewn across the desk, along with the occasional candy wrapper. Augustine sighed deeply and stood, commencing his morning routine of reorganizing his desk. He always told himself he would clean it at the end of his workday instead of leaving it for himself in the morning, but he never did.  
Papers in neat stacks, pokemon figurines facing front, he was satisfied. Returning to his seat, he opened his middle left desk drawer and popped a small chocolate into his mouth, smiling with satisfaction, the stressors of the morning lifted.  
The second the candy entered his mouth, a low voice across the room uttered, “Orange looks good on you.”  
The unexpected statement caused Sycamore to jump, consecutively inhaling the chocolate he had been attempting to consume. The professor coughed and sputtered, eventually choking out “Merci,” as he regained breath.  
Lysandre leaned his shoulder against the wall of Augustine’s office, peering in at the professor at his desk, hands behind his back and out of view. The taller man gave no reaction to Sycamore’s faux pas, and continued with conversation. “It looks very nice on you. It sets off your eyes.” Only now did the flame haired man begin to approach his friend, slowly and cooly. “Speaking of orange, one of your assistants downstairs asked me to bring these up for you.” Lysandre set down a large vase encompassing a bouquet of flowers blooming in various shades of orange. “She didn’t inform me of who they are from.” He stood back from the professor’s desk, gazing amusedly at his friend’s surprised and intrigued face.  
“Ah, merci, Lysandre.” Augustine rose from his chair and looked down at his chest, holding his hands out to the sides. “Does it really look alright on me?”  
“Yes. But, blue does suit you more.” Lysandre strode around the side of the desk as he spoke before nonchalantly perching on the edge. “Why the change?”  
Augustine faced his friend and leaned against his desk, supporting himself with his right palm. “Qui sait? This morning I told myself it felt right, that today felt different.” He stood back up straight and placed a hand on his hip, running the other through his dark hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn this.”  
“You look handsome, Augustine,” Lysandre said in his husky voice, the gaze from his crystal blue eyes steady. “You know I like that color.”  
The professor stood up straight and walked past his flame-haired friend, saying as he walked, “Thank you.” He stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to face Lysandre. “Is there a reason for your visit?”  
“Non, I just thought I would stop by.”  
As the words left Lysandre’s lips, Augustine noticed something buried in the bouquet of orange flowers that Lysandre had brought upstairs and was now sitting beside. He immediately approached the vase, carefully separating the stems in eager pursuit of the object. After a few pricks from thorns on the green stems, Sycamore retrieved a small white and orange card. On it was a sentence inscribed in black ink in Lysandre’s unmistakable slanted handwriting: “Go on a date with me?”  
The professor’s eyebrows raised and jaw slightly dropped. His reaction was one of awe, not only of the proposal but of how happy it made him feel. He had occasionally had fleeting daydreams of a relationship between the two of them, but never thought he longed for it. At least, he never thought he did. He deflected many dreams of the other man as nothing. But now, it was in his grasp, and he was happier than he ever expected to be.  
Augustine peered up from the card to see Lysandre looking at him somewhat expectantly, still perched on the side of the professor’s desk. He read over the scrawly handwriting again and smiled. With a half grin, Augustine looked to Lysandre and said, “Would you like me to wear blue, or orange, tonight?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is so terribly short! More (longer) chapters coming soon.

The pokemon professor felt immensely more comfortable in one of his blue button downs. If Lysandre had requested he wear orange, he would have done it, but it would have caused him even more anxiety for the impending date. The orange-haired man simply said Augustine should choose for himself, and made another comment regarding how blue suited him. Lysandre then proceeded to rise from his perch on the side of the professor’s desk and approached him, his demeanor remarkably cool for someone with an aura so fiery. The taller man positioned himself closer than usual to Augustine as he set up the rest of the date, closing in on the pokemon professor’s personal space. Lysandre kept his face straight, but Augustine couldn’t hide the surprise and discomfort in his gaze as he listened to the taller man’s voice grow lower. He was doing this to him on purpose, he knew it. But it didn’t stop Augustine’s face from turning red, and a small amount of heat arose in his groin as well. His cheeks flushed even deeper as Lysandre let out a low, soft laugh while he pulled his face away before turning to leave.  
“Au revoir, Lysandre,” the professor choked out, his heart in his throat.  
“See you at eight,” the other man replied simply. He didn’t even glance back before he stepped into the elevator.  
Now, after spending nearly an hour fretting over what to wear, Augustine arrived at the address Lysandre had given him earlier. His destination was on Autumnal avenue; was Lysandre taking him to Restaurant Le Yeah? It wasn’t that the he didn’t want to go there, the food was just fine, but part of him had expected something more.   
Lysandre was easily spotted as he leaned against the black brick wall, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing the same coat he always wore, but his clothing underneath seemed even more chic than usual. The first thing the darker-haired man said to the other on their very first date was, “Can I have a drag?”   
Lysandre gave him a surprised look, but passed him the cigarette nonetheless. “I didn’t know you smoked, Augustine.” His crystal blue eyes watched the professor carefully but not accusingly as the took a drag, the cigarette poised between his gloved fingers.   
On the exhale, Augustine replied, “Not often. Even then, it’s not something I like to share.” He passed the cigarette back to his companion. “It is our first date, non? I want to be completely honest with you.” He smirked at the orange haired man. “Let you know what you’re getting into.” Augustine winked, but it was missed by Lysandre, who had bent over to extinguish his cigarette on the pavement.   
When the taller man stood again, he looked to the other. “Shall we?” Augustine’s answer took the form of a smile and a nod. When the professor began to walk towards the entrance of Le Yeah, Lysandre acted in sly, subtle mock surprise. “You didn’t honestly think I was going to take you there, did you?” Augustine’s face showcased an expression of curiosity and surprise. The flame-haired man then turned and began walking away, Augustine knowing Lysandre well enough to understand he was supposed to follow. The dark-haired professor took a couple of jogging steps to catch up with the other, Lysandre’s pace always having been especially quick and his legs much longer.  
”Where are we going?” He knew Lysandre would want him to ask, but also knew well he wouldn’t receive an answer. In turn, Lysandre looked to the professor out the side of his eye, the gleam of a smirk shining the in the crystal blue. If he had a chance, Augustine would have looked into the piercing blue eyes for much longer, but Lysandre turned the corner and his eyes were taken away.


	3. Chapter 3

Augustine knew the streets of Lumiose by heart, this particular corner more than any other, but that night it looked nothing like it did on an average evening in Lumiose. The golden light that usually poured out of the windows and illuminated the sidewalk was much dimmer, but the glow was somehow warmer. The cafe’s front doors were closed, and when the two men reached the shut entrance Augustine noticed a sign pressed to the glass that read, “Réservé pour une occasion spéciale, nous nous excusons pour les inconvénients,” scrawled in Lysandre’s handwriting. A few butterfrees arose in the professor’s stomach, but before he had time to think about why, Lysandre unlocked and opened the front door.   
Backlit by a warm, dim golden light, Lysandre, holding the wodden door open for his date, purred, “Bienvenue, mon cher.”   
Augustine stepped through the door and found himself in a glowing room that hardly resembled the Lysandre cafe it was merely some hours ago. The tables and chairs were stacked against the walls; all except for one, a table for two baring a single candle and two glasses of red wine.   
As he stood in awe, his heart was in his throat. Lysandre had put so much effort into this date — into this whole day; even the flowers must have been planned far in advance. Augustine felt a wave of guilt. Lysandre must have had feelings for him for a long time, and he had never noticed. And these feelings were intense enough for someone as cold and solid on the outside as Lysandre to make something so warm and romantic. This wasn’t just a whim, but only on a whim did the professor say yes. He didn’t feel as strongly for Lysandre seemingly felt for him. Or did he? Augustine would often catch himself staring at the tall, solid man, watching him intently and listening closely to every syllable he spoke. As he stood in the entrance to this glowing cave, Augustine remembered all the times he would lie awake at night, pushing thoughts out of his mind. He liked Lysandre more than he realized. He had ignored the signs out of a belief that if he let himself develop romantic feelings, they would never be returned: a habit that had manifested over the years without his knowing. Augustine’s guilt had begun to evaporate, being replaced by surges of love.   
”Do you like it?”   
He must have been standing there too long. “Oui,” the professor replied, head still fuzzy from his realizations as he stepped completely through the doorway. “C’est incroyable.” He turns to the other man. “I had no idea you were such a romantic, Lysandre.”   
Lysandre carefully shut the large wooden door behind them and cooly mocked him by repeating a sentence the professor had spoken just a few minutes earlier, “It’s not something I like to share.” He approached their table, his paces even. “I don’t know many people I would ever want to show this side of myself to,” he spoke, pulling out one of the two chairs. Lysandre turned and looked expectantly at the professor, his left hand resting on the back of the chair.   
With a faint smile, Augustine glided across the room and placed himself in the seat Lysandre offered him. “It is unexpected. I like that about you, Lysandre,” he said, gazing at the taller man who was receiving their plates of food from across the cafe, “you never fail to surprise me.”   
”Bien,” the orange-haired man stated, placing a plate of food in front of Sycamore. “You never fail to be surprised” Lysandre finally assumed his place across from the professor. “Did you really not anticipate this?”   
”Non,” he admitted. His fingers fumbled with the sleek orange napkin, unfolding it ungracefully before arranging it in his lap. Using this as an excuse to not make eye contact as he spoke, Augustine uttered, “though I was hoping for it.”   
”Oh?” Was that a hint of a smile on Lysandre’s lips?  
”Oui.” Augstine picked up his knife and fork triumphantly. “Now, let us eat?”   
Lysandre let him get away with avoiding the topic of their relationship. “Bon appetit, mon cher.” Lysandre had never called him that before today. He liked it.   
“C’est delicieux, Lysandre.” The professor nearly moaned his words through his mouthful of food.   
Lysandre chuckled lowly, watching his date ungracefully consume the specially-prepared food with amused eyes. “Merci.” There was a short moment of silence as the two continued to eat, Lysandre deeper in thought than he led on. All of this was very unlike him. But, he hadn’t felt this way for another person in many years. Augustine was special. And though Lysandre was scared, he refused to let fear paralyze him. He wanted something, and it would be his.   
There was so much he wanted to know, but would feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, asking. How could Lysandre ask the beautiful, genuine man sitting across from him why he agreed to a date with himself? He tried never to let on that he was even the least bit unsure of himself, and he didn’t know what would happen if he did.   
Lysandre caught the professor watching him when he finally broke the distant gaze from his plate. Augustine didn’t try to cover up that h had been studying the other as he was deep in thought, and Lysandre found that reassuring— his date wasn’t uncomfortable around him.   
”How long?” the darker-haired man asked simply.   
Lysandre looked at him, confused. “How long what?”   
Augustine smiled, nearly a smirk. “How long have you been planning this?”   
Lysandre breathed something of a laugh. “Longer than I’ll admit,” Seeing that both their plates were now empty, Lysandre rose and gathered the dishes, setting them behind the cafe counter.   
”Weeks? Months?” Sycamore persisted, legs loosely crossed, his body language so lax it was teasing.   
Lysandre’s crystal blue eyes studied the other man— the way his hair fell in waves, how his silken blue shirt was draped across him in such a way that the smalled bit of pale skin was visible above his belt, but it was nothing compared to the few opened buttons at his collar. After the moment’s pause Lysandre returned to the table for two and refilled Augustine’s wine glass. “Longer.”   
The professor’s long, skilled fingers wrapped around the glass now replenished by Kalosian cabernet. “So why today?”   
Lysandre made somewhat sharp eye contact as he stood with his hand on the back of his chair. “Why not?”   
The other man did not reply, but rather sat in brief, watchful silence, amused. After a small taste of the dark liquid, Augustine proposed, “Want to sit and have a glass, then go out?” Where did he think they’d be going? He didn’t know but he was sure Lysandre would. Lysandre was always a step ahead of the rest.   
”I am not done with you yet.”   
The phrase conjured a stir in Sycamore’s stomach. He felt desired, special. But all poetic feelings were replaced by roaring gluttony when Lysandre placed in front of him a portion of chocolate mousse topped with three raspberries.   
”Oh! Mon chere, tu es incroyable!” Augustine’s face was one of pure delight, causing a large smile to grace the face of the other man.   
”You have asked me to make this for you enough times that I know what you like.” His his own plate now placed, Lysandre returned to his own seat. Before Lysandre even had a chance to pick up his silverware, Augustine had already taken his first spoonful. Lysandre uttered a low chuckle and asked, “Comment?”   
”C’est delicieux, magnifique!” Augustine’s table manners had long ceased, yet he somehow still retained elegance. It was in the way he moved, talked with his hands, sat and spoke so casually.  
After watching his date, Lysandre looked down at his own dessert, smiling to himself. What a unique, beautiful man to have entered his life, to be made happy by something he had created. Lysandre had the power to destroy and create the entire world, but this man made him happier than reality ever could.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!  
> So, I ended up distancing myself from this fandom a while ago, and I just now realized I had never posted the rest of the chapters I had written for this piece!! So, now I'm posting chapters 4-6. It's a good enough ending point I think, though it wasn't where I intended to end it when I was deep into writing it, so we'll see if I pick this up again.  
> xo

Professor Sycamore had inhaled his dessert at lightning speed, making Lysandre eat his uncomfortably fast in order to not make the other wait. He knew he didn’t have to, Augstine had much patience, but it was his choice. The night was young, and the heart of Kalos was all theirs. Lysandre promptly cleared the table and offered a hand to his date, who was still sitting. “Viens.” 

After gazing at the majestic man for a short period, the professor took his hand and stood. Now what? Does he let go? What did Lysandre want him to do? Their hands still interlocked, Lysandre led him to the door.

”Where are we going?” 

Characteristically, there was no reply. 

Their hands separated as Lysandre crossed the room to extinguish most of the lights. A feeling seeped in through Augustine’s skin that at first he could not place, until he realized that without Lysandre’s hand in his, his hand felt empty, like it was missing something important. The two men stepped out into the frigid night air, Augustine pulling his coat in tight and bouncing on the balls of his feet as Lysandre proceeded to lock his cafe’s doors. When his task was completed, the flame-haired man returned to his date and attempted to rejoin their hands. Augustine was hesitant. 

”Lysandre…” He looked at their hands, hovering just a short distance from each other. “Are you not worried about someone seeing?” 

Lysandre’s face remained straight and matter-of-fact. “Non.” His eyebrows then furrowed slightly in concern. “Are you?” 

Augustine looked form their hands to Lysandre’s eyes and back. “Non.” As the other’s hand began to reach of his again, Sycamore interrupted, “I just…” He didn’t make eye contact has he spoke. “This seems to come so easily to you. You don’t seem to be afraid at all. Lysandre…” Eyes shameful, he looked up. “I am very afraid. What if this is not right? What if people see us and do not approve? What i—” he was cut off mid-sentence by Lysandre bringing one hand to his cheek and he other to rest on his arm. 

”If people do not approve, they are in the wrong, mon cher. And if it happens that this is not right, we will not do it any longer. But I am not afraid, for it does feel right. Does it not?” 

Augustine’s face cracked a smile. Maybe the doubt, the confusion stirring in his stomach was all normal. Lysandre was so sure, so prepared, and he was not. But with Lyandre, it was sure to come. “It does.” Augustine brought his hand up to meet with the one of Lysandre’s that rested on his cheek. “But you will have to help me, Lysandre. I am not as brave, not as bold as you. And I do not want this to fail.” 

”I promise I’ll help you.” With this, Lysandre placed a gentle kiss on his date’s cheek before movign his hands and stepping back. “Where would you like to go now?” 

”—Ah…” Sycamore had been caught off guard by the caring kiss, and felt his cheeks turn red. Lysandre truly was trying to make him feel comforted, loved, and safe. This was all so overwhelming, but it would only be getting easier. He wanted this. His hand reached out for Lysandre’s as if it was a habit that had been ingrained over years. With large, loving gray-blue eyes, he looked to the other and said, “something tells me you have planned something already.” 

Lysandre looked down at the other, a glint of amusement in his icy eyes. Various phrases echoed in his mind, yet he said none, His new boyfriend’s hand in his, he set off for the next destination.


	5. Chapter 5

Lysandre’s hand felt warm against his. It was new, and strange, and if he were to be honest, not yet comforting. It would come, in time. It had to. 

Lysandre led his new partner through the turns of the city, occasionally shifting his eyes to the side to look at him. Most of what he could see was the top of his head, yet he recurringly drew the conclusion that he must be okay. His hair looked like he was having a good time. 

“I know it does not seem like much,” the taller man commented as they reached the gate to Kalos Route 4. 

Of course, the professor opened his mouth to begin to console him as Lysandre led the two forward to the flowering passage. “Oh, non, Lysandre you have done so much for me already–” What was that glow? There was more? 

There was more. Lysandre had strung warmly colored lights all throughout the hedges of the route, creating a beautiful glow that bounced off the flower petals and leaves. The unusual spectacle had drawn a minor crowd, but Lysandre did not mind – he enjoyed that his work was being admired. He loved to make the world beautiful. 

Of course it really was all for him, the beautiful man who gave Lysandre’s hand a squeeze that he did not know how to interpret. But, Lysandre found himself to be so captivated by the way the lights and colors fell on Augustine’s features that he did not at all mind. 

“Lysandre…” Sycamore was stunned. “You really did not have to do any of this.” 

“Oh, I did.” 

The raven-haired man turned to his date with questioning, somewhat concerned eyes. “No…” his voice was small. 

Lysandre gently removed his hand from the professor’s grasp and brought his fingers up to tenderly grace Sycamore’s cheek and jaw. “I did, because you deserve it. You deserve nothing less than beauty, care, and all the adoration I can provide.” The tall man moved to take both of Augustine’s hands. “Don’t you understand? I admire you endlessly.” 

Sycamore felt his emotions swell inside his chest. Before him stood this man, so beautiful and tender and with so much love in his heart. It was so moving, all the care he put forward, just for him. But why did he still feel uncomfortable? He was supposed to be reeling with love, not with an anxious and confused stomach. 

“Lysandre…” he trailed off, still at loss. “I admire you too.” With this said, the pokemon professor sighed and pulled his hands away from the other’s. “You have done so much for me.” 

“And I only desire to do more.” The flame haired man then turned placing a hand on Sycamore’s lower back. 

Touch was so valuable to Lysandre. He had to feel a high level of comfort around a person to even first touch them or allow himself to be touched. It was a a deep expression of comfort and trust in Lysandre’s mind, and those were the two qualities that did not seem to come as naturally to him as it did to some people. 

Lysandre guided his date down the illuminated route at the pace of a leisurely stroll, hoping to let Sycamore take as much of the night in as he could. He wanted so much to do such a thing with him as the subject – to study every inch of his body, to admire how the soft orange lights played on his features. What a beautiful man he was. But, Lysandre would be patient. He did not expect to lose his chance. 

The orange haired man found himself jolted out of his thoughts when he felt the warmth and pressure of Augustine’s back leave his palm. He turned his head to find the professor, face glowing with delight, on he knees, stroking the pink fur of a wild skitty. The sight warmed his heart, yet a small part of him questioned, why have my affections not drawn that smile? 

Sycamore looked up at his companion, an open-mouthed smile and sparkling eyes greeting him. “She is purring!” 

Lysandre smiled in return and stooped to kneel down beside the other. “I am not surprised. Your natural harmony with pokemon is impeccable.” 

Augustine sent him another delighted grin before turning back to the purring creature. He graced the skitty with a few more loving strokes before beginning to stand. As Lysandre echoed his movement, the professor started earnestly, “Pardon, I know you worked very hard. I hope it did not seem like I was unappreciative.” 

“Not at all, Augustine. You looked so happy petting her, I could have watched you all night.” 

Sycamore smiled widely, and reached a hand out in hopes of it being met with one of Lysandre’s. The gesture was returned, and with unspoken declaration, the two continued to walk forward. 

It was not long before the couple stood in front of the Grand Perle fountain. Together they stopped to watch the fountain’s blue water fall endlessly. Augustine smiled, taking in its beauty before closing his eyes to listen to the sound of the water splashing into the fountain’s pool. Lysandre attempted to do the same, but the longer he stood watching, the more did an intrusive mental image bother him. He couldn’t shake it, the fabricated image of the water no longer glowing crystal blue, but being a muddy brown, and trash floating in its pool. The sculptures of the frame were cracked, the trees were barren of their leaves, there were hazardous pokemon traps in nearly every flower patch. His heart started beating faster as the image persisted, anxiety creeping in his chest. 

It was only when Augustine’s hand began to wriggle inside his that Lysandre began to calm, a pang of guilt going straight to his heart when he realized how tightly he had been gripping the other’s hand. Lysandre released him and was quick to apologize, but the professor was of no anger, but worry. “Are you alright?” 

“Absolument,” he replied shortly, and was quick to change the subject from his emotions. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

Sycamore took the bait, worry washing away. His calming voice promptly replied, “Very.” 

“Don’t you wish it could stay this way forever? Beautiful, until the end of time? Free from what will be the ultimate destruction of its beauty?” 

Augustine turned to look up at him, face frowning in concern, and curiosity. “Who says that will happen? And, if this fountain is eventually worn down, won’t only something more beautiful take its place?” 

Lysandre was silent, and Augustine watched the lights reflect on his eyes. 

He reached to take both of his lover’s hands. “You are a giver, Lysandre, and a protector. A creator and preserver of beauty.” Sycamore slid one of his hands up Lysandre’s arm to rest on his shoulder. “It is so noble of you to have these thoughts. Yet, the world has existed so long, and created so much beauty, on its own.” Augustine said his next statement with a smile. “It even created you.” 

His words were calming and oh so loving, but Lysandre’s mind did not, perhaps could not, process them in the way they were meant to be perceived. It even created him, this man plagued by worry, who will become a beacon of destruction in his quest to recreate the world, which he has deemed noble and correct but still struggles with every moment of every day. 

The radiant, black-haired man leaned up to place a kiss on Lysandre’s cheek. “There is light, and happiness, and love.” 

And evil, and destruction, and greed. 

“Isn’t that all we need?” 

… Is it? 

Leading him loosely by the hand, Augustine brought Lysandre to the side of the glittering fountain that bore its plaque. He read the inscription to the other with a gentle and knowing voice. “Acceptance creates harmony.” Following this recital, Professor Sycamore looked to meet the other’s gaze. “Accept that not all beauty will last forever, and accept that no man can alter that. Just as light cannot exist without darkness, beauty would not have the same intensity if it did not eventually fade. The harmony between creation and destruction, life and death, is all that this world has.” 

As his date spoke, Lysandre listened intently, but could not suppress the roaring anxiety and bitterness growing inside his chest. He held so tightly to his ideals, his mission, that it had become his whole basis for living and working and even hearing the opposite argument always caused an upset within him. Hearing it all come from his beloved Audustine, however, only worsened his internal conflict. Lysandre wanted so badly to believe him, but relinquishing a lifetime of thought and work was something he was not ready to do. The world’s beauty would fade, and it was his life’s mission to stop mankind’s role in that cycle. 

There was no other way. 

“Lysandre?” The voice was small, yet earnest. Awakening from his bitter, thoughtful daze, the flame-haired ma looked away from the glowing fountain to meet the eyes of his new loved. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?” 

Lysandre bowed his head thoughtfully and stroked the back of Augustine’s hand with his thumb. “No, you didn’t, Augustine. I was just considering what you have said.” His reply was met with an understanding silence from the profesor. After another moment of thoughtful quiet, Lysandre uttered lowly, “there has to be some way.” 

Sycamore felt a swell of emotion within his own chest. How did he not see it before? The dearest man who now stood holding his hand was clearly fighting a battle within his mind. Augustine did not know the cause, or the true conflict, only that it displayed itself as a battle between, in Lysandre’s mind, pure beauty and inevitable decay. What a tortured man he must be, to believe in such an unattainable concept, seemingly so unable to open his mind to the more positive way of viewing the mortality of all creation, as Sycamore did. 

He had never thought of Lysandre in such a light before. Never had it occurred to him that him that his dear friend, and new lover, so beautiful, intelligent, composed and radiant, may have been in truth a tortured soul. All the endless discussions of beauty and its end suddenly weighed more heavily on the professor’s mind, and he inevitably began to worry. This man needed someone to take care of him, and someoe to take care of. The professor felt honored that he was the chosen one, and was eager to delve more into the flaming man’s endlessly beautiful mind. 

The pokemon professor wriggled his hand out of Lysandre’s grasp, only to wrap both his arms around his date’s torso. Instinctively, Lysandre stiffened – he was not used to this kind of touch – but, quickly realizing what was happening, he welcomed it. Looking down, he noticed a small smile displayed on the professor’s face, and it warmed his heart. 

As the other man let go of his taller companion, he was questioned, amusedly, with, “What did I do to deserve that?” 

The professor smiled up at his as he took his hands. “You are such a beautiful man, Lysandre, and you deserve all the affection I can give. This statement was replied to with silence, slightly widened eyes, and an almost indistinguishable flush of Lysandre’s cheeks. 

Sycamore wrapped his arms aroud the other once again and nuzzled his head into the taller man’s chest. As he felt his embrace be returned, Augustine hummed a contented sigh. 

May you feel this beauty endlessly.


	6. Chapter 6

They stood like this for several minutes, Sycamore’s head nestled in Lysandre’s chest, Lysandre’s chin resting gently on the cloud of black hair beneath him, both holding each other tightly and listening to the splashing water of the dazzling fountain beside them. 

It was with reluctance that Sycamore pulled away (is this what Lysandre means by the death of beauty?), even if only driven by the uncontrollable urge to yawn. After the yawn had passed, the pokemon professor looked to the other with a sheepish smile and glowing eyes. “Pardon.”

Lysandre laughed and took the other loosely in his arms again, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before stepping back. “Let us get you home, mon cher. It is late.” 

Sycamore would have protested had he not felt another yawn coming on. He nodded through the yawn and stepped back into Lysandre’s arms, who then began to lead his date back into the city. 

The pair had made it only a few steps, halfway through the illuminated garden route, when the relative silence was broken by a meow. 

“Nyaa!~” 

The two men turned their heads to see a small pink pokemon looking at Sycamore somewhat expectantly. 

It repeated its demand. “Nyaa!” 

Lysandre laughed as the professor stooped over, smiling, a hand held out to greet the familiar skitty. “Hello!” he greeted the creature, before turning his head to look up at Lysandre. “Do you suppose she missed me?” 

Standing with arms folded, Lysandre aswered, “I wouldn’t blame her. You are quite irresistable.” 

Sycamore felt his heart flutter, this time without the underlying anxiety, as he gazed at the man with joy, until a needy and demanding meow was issued again, as the skitty began rubbing itself on his legs. Turning his attention back to the pink creature, the raven-haired professor sank to the ground, opening himself up to more affection from the normal-type. 

“I have never seen a wild pokemon act like this,” noted the flame-haired spectator, a contented smile on his features. 

“Neither have I,” Augustine replied, shooting yet another brief glace at his date, his eyes having been missing his presence, before returning his attention to the affectionate cat. 

“Maybe you should take it home?” 

“Huh.” Sycamore stopped what he was doing to consider the proposal. Bending backwards in his seated position to look up at Lysandre, a few black strands of hair falling across his eyes, he mused, “I suppose there woul dbe no harm in it.” Picking the skitty up and holding it in front of him, Augustine asked the small pink stranger, “would you like to come home with me?” 

The skitty’s face seemed to light up as it chirped in agreement. “Nya, nyaa~!” 

Beaming, the professor brought the skitty into his arms and stood, rejoining Lysandre. Pink cat cradled in his arms, Augustine leaned lightly against Lysandre as they walked through the gate leading back to Lumiose. 

“I believe she will be a good companion,” Lysandre mused. 

The professor smiled up at him, eyes just barely visible to the other over his hair. “She will always remind me of this night, that is for sure.” 

Augustine’s apartment on South Boulevard was very close to the gate – a fact that was both bitter, from the knowledge his wonderful date was about to end, and sweet, from knowing the night would end perfectly, and he would soon be getting the sleep he so craved. 

Sycamore issued another yawn and Lysandre gave a nod to the official behind the desk of the terminal dividing Lumiose and Route 4, and then, seconds later, the city was upon them. The skitty was unfazed by its drastically different surroundings, and it continued to purr contentedly in Augustine’s arms as the three of them slowly made their way to Sycamore’s apartment. 

The voyage was silent as they each let themselves be introspective of the past few hours. Augustine savored the feeling of Lysandre’s hand on his back – Lysandre savored the feeling of Augustine’s back on his hand. Once the modestly sized apartment came into view, the pokemon professor dared break the silence. “Lysan?” 

The tall, flame-haired men glanced down at his date. “Oui?” 

The pair stopped at the foot of the stairs that led up to the apartment building’s entrance. Orange light from a nearby streetlamp illuminated their space, making it just light enough for each of them to be able to see one anothers features and admire how the city lighting played on their skin. 

Augustine looked up at his date with wide, innocent, genuine eyes, the light shining on his face in a way where both of his eyes could be easily seen, though only half of his face was lit. “You have done so much for me this evening. I do not know how to thank you.” 

Lysandre’s reply came quick. “Let me do all of this, and more, again, for you. That is how you can thank me.” The dim, warm light shone through his flaming hair in such a way that it made it glow, giving him a halo of warmth, translating into a halo of safety for the smaller man. 

Sycamore smiled, yet shook his head. “I cannot just let you work endlessly for me while I cannot even pay you proper thanks.” 

“Your being here is my thanks, Augustine. I love to love you. Do not worry.” 

Lysandre’s face, voice, words, were all so soft, and Sycamore’s heart did fell, yet a surge of anxiety coursed trough him. Was that Lysandre’s way of saying he loved him? His rational mind told him no, it was just a word, a phrase – but the anxiety in his bloodstream made him question what he really meant, and what it was she was supposed to say next. 

The professor pulled the skitty in closer to his chest and bowed his head slightly. “You are too much, Lysandre.” Fearing the phrase would b taken the wrong way, Sycamore quickly set the skitty on the ground and proceeded to extend an arm to Lysandre. “N-Not too much, ah, just enough actually – well, it really is quite a bit but, I love it all –” He stopped as Lysandre began to issue an audible laugh, then felt himself be tenderly pulled in by strong and loving arms. 

“Hush,” came Lysandre’s voice, low and calming, as his wide hands ran over Sycamore’s back. They stood with their arms around one another and chests pressed together for a brief moment before Lysandre pulled his shoulders back and searched for the eyes of the raven-haired man who he embraced. “I think it is time for you to go to bed.” 

Augustine answered him with a laugh. “You are absolutely correct,” he replied, before leaning his head on his date’s chest. The professor sighed and hummed, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of Lysandre’s warmth and comfort; Lysandre’s body and scent were already beginning to feel familiar to him, and that didn’t scare him. Maybe he needed this more than he realized. 

Finally, the two pulled out of their embrace far enough that their chests no longer touched. Lysandre realized that he felt cold without Augustine wrapped around him, and so did the other man, but they both knew it was the time of night when they should be parting ways.


End file.
